


This World's Queen

by ShadowedTime



Category: Date A Bullet, Date A Live
Genre: Anger, Fear, Ficlet, Hatred, Introspection, Mental Instability, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Revenge, Self-Harm, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:49:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27972638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowedTime/pseuds/ShadowedTime
Summary: Reflection is the key to advancement. The Queen understands this, but some wounds are better left untouched.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	This World's Queen

Her gloves came off first.

There was no relief as the fabric slipped from her fingers. Where they would allow others to breathe and to relax, no longer constrained by tight restrictions, the White Queen only felt discomfort. Stark and harsh against her skin. It made the hairs on her body prickle, but she refused to let any expression grace her face, apart from a furrowed brow and firm set jaw.

The day had been arduous to say the very least. After Kurumi’s escape and the damage done to the castle, her loss of Pawns, Jabberwocky and one of her other Kurumi clones, the White Queen was left to pick up the pieces of a nasty surprise attack that took her completely off guard. It was humiliating. Lady could feel General ruminating and cursing the turn of events, but paid her no mind. Now was no time for squabbling between them.

The White Queen placed her gloves down beside the sink, and raised her gaze toward the mirror as she began to unbutton her dress. Methodically, one button at a time, gazing at her reflection.

Introspection and learning from one’s mistakes were important. That was how a good tactician was made.

The White Queen recalled the turn of events. How she utterly beat Kurumi down during their first scuffle, and how during their second, Kurumi had begun slowly adapting to her fighting style. The Spirit seemed to know that the Queen was too dangerous an enemy to charge recklessly into, so she had played defensively. Trying to find a weakness, and focusing on the known rather than the unknown in her powers, then using them against her at the very last second.

Her dress dropped, and the Queen quickly guided her eyes away from her reflection. She focused instead on her boots, unlacing them and letting the process distract her.

General had been bested. As much as Lady disliked her, it was truly disappointing to see her fail in such a way. Losing her cool the way she did was also _utterly_ out of line, and she was thankful that their enemies had vacated the area before they could witness her breakdown.

The White Queen finally straightened up, and after undoing her bra, focused her gaze on herself in the mirror once more.

Picturesque, unmoving and stoic like a marble sculpture. Pristine and perfectly put together. A figure of power and a goddess towering above filth. Without fault, any cracks in her psyche hidden by perfection.

She was _almost_ unblemished and untouchable.

With a slow inhale, the Queen watched her ribs expand, and allowed her gaze to rest on the healing, darkened, ugly gouge marring over her entire abdomen, in a perfect circular shape. It was stark, impossible to miss, and _disgusting_.

The White Queen ran her fingers over the mark, feeling the mottled texture of it under her fingertips and letting her lip curl in disgust.

 _Untouchable_.

This mark was made by her own powers, however in that brief moment, Arie did not bend to her will. Kurumi harnessed it, taking advantage of her distraction and giving her an astonishing reminder of _mortality_.

D’li was still working on her wound. It would fade over the next half hour or so, and D’li had already made remarkable progress on what had once been a vacant hole where all her organs should have been, instead of vaporised into the gaping maw of nothingness that Arie ripped through the very fabric of reality.

It was a wake up call. This was the second time Kurumi had made her feel this way.

Pathetic.

Filthy.

_Weak._

General resurfaced, briefly.

Her reflection cracked and shattered under the unrelenting force of her bare fist slamming into the mirror. Glass exploded from the impact, cutting through her knuckles and skittering across the floor by her feet. The pain was nothing compared to the embarrassment such a disgusting wound gave her, however.

Again, made a mockery of.

Again, wounded near beyond recognition. Fatally. Utterly and completely.

Then Lady’s existence shuddered, and as Queen’s influence pressed forth, let herself slip away for the time being.

* * *

_She couldn’t see much from her position on the ground, blood seeping into her eyes and blurring her vision. Her body was on fire, alight with pain that pulled the breath from her lungs and tried to drown her mind in darkness._

_Bullet holes riddled her body. Countless, leaving gaping holes in so much of her body that she wasn’t sure how much of her body was even holding together by this point._

_Tears mingled with blood, and she tried to scream out to the monster filling her up with lead. Begging her to stop, trying to desperately reason with her, to appeal to the girl she admired, cherished, and loved, something,_ **_anything._ ** ****

_But all that came out was a croak and wheeze, and she realised grimly that her lungs had filled with blood._

_So many bullet holes._

_So much pain._

_So much hatred._

_What had she done to deserve this?_

* * *

Queen pictured them clearly now. Those bullet wounds, scattered all over her body. She could see them in her shattered reflection, feel the blood, smell the gunpowder, hear her cries raking over her throat that had long been destroyed.

Blood snaked around her fingers, curling along her fist. She could hear it drip down into the sink, feel each splash against the porcelain basin.

This would be the last time Kurumi bested her.

Queen was tired of such brutal, gruesome behaviour from Kurumi Tokisaki. If she would not come peacefully, then she would have to be taught a lesson. A lesson that would perhaps give her just a taste of the pain she inflicted so callously upon _her_.

She could feel the others trying to comfort her. The distant, soft murmurings of quiet suggestions and soothing intentions. The sentiment would be nice if she didn’t have to share her waking every moment with them.

She withdrew her hand, and straightened up, before reaching up to adjust her cap atop her head.

The bullet wounds had vanished now, leaving the quickly fading remnants of the battle from earlier. It left behind that statuesque perfection, a body unblemished to the naked eye.

But, of course, what did that matter?

The White Queen knew what lay beneath. The gruesome marks of her past, nearly as brutalised and savaged as her mind. No amount of power or public impressions could erase what she knew as fact. But it would have to do for now. Suffice for the time being.

With that, the Queen turned away from the remnants of the mirror, and calmed herself down with a sigh.

There was time to think later.

For now, she could take the time to plan her next move.

Gather intelligence, then strike when least expected.

Lady pushed forward once again, and Queen let herself slip into the darkness, surrounded by shattered egos and the ramblings of madwomen.


End file.
